My shelf of seasons

There is a shelf above my desk

I call it the shelf of seasons

It has but one treasured gift

From each of the four seasons.

From summer, it has a parrot's wing.

Glistening, green and light

When exuberance was not an offense

And pleasure was in flight!

From Autumn, it has the cone

Fallen from an ageing pine,

A tribute to his humble land

To his lady, his rhine!

From the winter, it has a dried twig,

Which holds in it a fire,

To some it is a life well-lived,

To some it is a pyre!

At last from the spring, there's a hydrangea dry,

Still alive with its hope and scent,

Preserved still in that foot of length,

Is the memory of the year that went!

- Palak

Oct 1st 2010, CST